Little Ms Crimson Eyes
by glowing bookworm
Summary: Excerpt from Little Ms. Crimson Eyes: "The black closed in on me, like a battle I couldn't win."  The epic journey of the mysterious vampire Genevieve - a warning issued to the readers for language, violence, and other mature content. Full summary inside!
1. Chapter 1

Rating is subject to change due to M to be safe for swearing, violence, alcohol used by adults, and mentioned child abuse.

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**Little Ms. Crimson Eyes**

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**Introductory summary:** Immortal Children, declared illegal, are dangerous creatures with one sole purpose, to hunt and kill. They are a thousand times worse than newborns. Like newborns they are bloodthirsty, savage, and unruly creatures ruled by their instinct. But unlike newborns, they never grow up and can't comprehend rules.

_"Awaken to darkness on this place we call Earth,_

_One vampire's bite brings another ones birth._

_A vampire wakes with blood thirsty needs_

_On the warm rich sensation he feels when he feeds._

_He stalks in the night like a disastrous beast,_

_And what once was alive will soon be deceased._

_So when the last bit of sunlight disappears from the sky,_

_You better watch out unless you want to die."_

_-_Victoria Boatwright

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**Disclaimer:** I do not own _Twilight_, Stephanie Meyers does. I only own my plot and Genevieve so far (wink). I thank her for writing her dazzling _Twilight Saga_ so I can play around in it!

**Dedication:** To my younger sister, Maria. (Hence why Maria is one of my favorite background characters) You are one lucky girl; your name is a character in the book.

**Story Note: **The prologue and the first chapter are combined. The prologue is in Maria's, point of view. Following with the point of view of my character for chapter one.

**Author's Note:** You might recognize the contents of this first chapter; it's originally from my discontinued story, _One of None Meets One of Many_. I've just taken it out for a new spin. I'd like to thank my previous reviewer, Hidden Traces. I'm also currently looking for a Beta. Please "pm" me if you're interested.

Without further to do, here is the prologue and chapter one:

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I wandered aimlessly through the dense dust clouds. The heat was a thick blanket cast over like a shroud. With my enhanced senses, I was able to smell the heat and the moisture in the humidity.

I almost could have tasted the roughness of the textured sand.

I continued running in the blisteringly hot sand that would scorch a foot. Though, I'm not affected; humans are such delicate animals. They are merely a food source for the stronger race, vampires.

I heard the sand shifting with the rustle of the wind as my feet pounded on the ground. The towns and plants were blurred images; the potent smell of blood was in the air.

The letter "m" is for Maria, and only Maria in my mind. I am Maria, the once malevolent and militant vampire who ruled during the southern vampire wars. That was until the Volturi destroyed my newborn army and my rivalries.

Though, to be fairly honest, don't and never did mind the annihilation of the enemies who tried to take my territory. We had gotten out of hand and the humans had started to notice. The one rule above all that the Volturi enforce is secrecy of our existence to humans.

I was so careful of who I chose. I only bit those who'd have potential to increase and defend my land. I kept my newborns with an iron grasp and a short leash, punishing those who didn't please me. Most the time punishment was death.

I didn't allow careless feeding and kept my vampires normally malnourished. It made them more difficult to handle, but enabled them to have furry when fighting.

They were feed enough for them to concentrate on their tasks without only craving blood. When I was pleased, the reward was a nice human feast. My army loved to do anything to satisfy me.

I favored the Civil War soldiers; they made the best soldiers being acquainted with the army life. Jasper, err Major Whitlock, was my right hand, my golden boy.

The empath knew how to keep the newborns in check. He sometimes slipped out of punishments by tweaking my emotions. Although I knew what he was doing, most the time I fell under his influence not wanting to be so harsh on him.

I admit it; I had a soft spot for him. He was one of my best warriors. When I changed him I knew he would be a benefit for me. His bite-covered skin alerted others to his dangerous upbringing and mad fighting skills. I helped him become "death" to the vampire race.

That was until Peter and Charlotte escaped. Jasper left with them too. He betrayed me when he ran off with the psychic who claimed they were sole mates. To that I say, a feast of bullshit. He was and should be mine.

I tried a few times unsuccessfully to sway him to rejoin me. The last time I wanted to show him he couldn't resist his natural ways by exposing the blood of humans near him.

Miraculously, he was able to abstain. He claimed he changed his ways. He stayed with the golden-eyed freaks who only hunted animal. Jasper and his new leader gave me the message that I wasn't welcomed on their territory.

Unfortunately, I backed down seeing I was outnumbered if they wanted a fight. Yet, I would love to be able to say I bared my teeth and stood my ground reclaiming what was mine.

He really had changed and was loyal to them now. The Cullens were denying themselves of the pleasure of human blood, sweet ambrosia only known to us gods, vampires. How in the world could they live that way and reside among their natural food source?

We are vampires, monsters, and nothing will change that. Why not just give into the perks of vampirism?

Going back to the Volturi, they destroyed about two months ago my last newborn army. I had successfully taken back my lost territory defeating another top feared coven.

I now control lands spanning from Texas to Arizona. I gladly accepted these new spoils adding them to me previous land, Mexico. Quite an accomplishment I might add.

When my newborn army was destroyed, I was let off the hook a final time. I was warned by the guard while I pleaded to them for my life, the next slip up would be my death. Now, I'm roaming around Texas wondering what to do.

It is quite sad a great military leader like me is clueless what to do when it comes to passing time. One would think I'd be preparing and leading an army for the next battle to extend my

territory, but I'm content with my land boundaries for now. I'm going to continue running further, deeper into Texas 'till I come to somewhere of interest.

Some of the nice bonuses about being a vampire are not have to worry about heat or exhaustion. I'm perfectly fine in a sweater in temperatures humans would think of as sweltering. I smoothed out my clothes and buttoned a button that had become unhooked on my black cardigan.

I think I hear someone coming my way.

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Warning: The following chapter has child abuse, alcohol abuse, violence and swearing. If you are sensitive to the topics, feel free to skip this chapter.

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_"The pain will never go away; the wound will never heal._

_The evil that was done to you is now your eyes, your heart._

_The black will never turn to gray; the blood will not congeal._

_The violence is never through; the past does not depart."_

-Unknown Poet

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I was about to go to the checkout area when I forgot Mama, my tyrant, had commanded me to get butter. I had no idea why she wanted butter, but despite that, anything she wanted, I had to do.

Her wish is my command, literally. All the scents of unsullied groceries were uncovering my famished state. I swore at one point, I was drooling over the untouched scraps in the garbage dumpster.

I can't believe that people wouldn't buy a food if it was flawed in any way, for instance, if a can had a dent in it. You're not even eating the can, why not buy it?

I trekked past the bakery. Aromas of sweet bliss wafted over to me filling me with desire. I was ravenous. It took all of my control not to devour every heavenly desert. I quickly shuffled by, not wanting to test my control.

I clutched my stomach; the ever-present hunger was clawing at me. As I continued to amble, my stomach growled in protest of being surrounded by food I wasn't allowed to eat. I can't remember the last time I was allowed to eat a food that wasn't already picked at!

Trotting down the frozen dairy section, I looked for the specific butter she asked for. Dang, I couldn't locate it. I had to do something about that or when I got home, she'd be irate at me and most likely call me another name of her infamous names.

I looked at the eggs longingly, a chicken egg. I was really tempted to steal on and suck the goo right out of it. My stomach growled again and subconsciously, my hand lurched forward to open the carton. It lifted one of the cardboard container lids. I looked at each egg longingly and greedily.

I was about to snatch one of the eggs out to the carton when one of the store employees that worked in dairy asked, "What are you doing miss?"

"Sorry ma'am," I mumbled closing the cartoon and putting it back into the display. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her head nod at me.

"Yes, thank you," she sighed trying to hide the annoyance in her tone, "Where are your parents or who ever brought you here?"

Glancing up at her to make eye-contact, I blushed. Casting my eyes down again I replied with a lie, "They are shopping and asked me to pick up some butter."

"Whatever, and next time, remember not to touch my eggs. They are very breakable. Didn't you parents tell you not to touch what you aren't going to take," she chided.

I had the urge to roll my eyes while she flaunted away back behind her counter but I suppressed it. What did she take me for, a fool? Of course I knew eggs were fragile. Was she really that stupid not to see that I was trying to steal and egg, or that I lied to her? Wow, some people are so gullible.

"Actually ma'am," I called back to her requesting her help, she turned to look at me coldly "could you tell me if your store carries this kind of butter?" I gave her a slip of crumpled paper with the name of the brand on it.

"Sorry little girl, we ain't carryin' that kind around today," she replied handing the slip back to me. She pivoted on her heels and trudged away. I rushed, almost running into an elderly couple at the flower counter, to the checkout line. I needed quite a few minutes to walk back to our crude, homely abode.

After standing in line for a while, listening to the beeps of the checkout line, it was my turn. While I normally am a patient person, standing there in line was a test of that quality. I emptied the contents of my basket onto the conveyor belt.

The cashier woman asked for $35.95 as the bill. I dug two twenties wrinkled and dirty out of my pocket. She scoffed at the sight of them. Sorry to her, but I did my best to smooth them out. When you're living with an alcoholic freak as a parent, money is often reserved for drinking away.

"Thank you, ma'am," I muttered taking the bag off the ledge after she handed me change. The change went right into my pocket. I hope the nickel didn't fall out. I'd get beat for that, my Mama would think I stole it.

Welcome to my sad life. Here is the whole story if you didn't know or care: I have a single, alcoholic, abusive mother who calls my runaway father a "useless dickhead", the end.

The grocery bag was heavy for my small frame to lift. In my rant did I mention I'm incredibly short? My mother during her pregnancy and in result I'll forever and a day be a runt. I don't have much fun at all. I'm her child slave.

The blistering sand crunched under my feet. It burned my feet as I hopped trying not to give any side too much scorching pressure.

Despite the ground, the intense sun in my face was a "sunny" feeling. It made me smile. I thought I felt a slight breeze. Looking at the horizon, Texas appeared to be a child's endless sandbox. Parents don't need to buy their kids sandboxes anymore, have them bring their tools down here.

I walked a half an hour to get to our home. The house permanently reeked of alcohol and mildew. My headache was already starting to form. Walking in quietly so I didn't disturb my mother, I headed to put the groceries away.

I heard her drunken steps pound on the floor from the living room. I also heard a shattering noise; most likely she stepped on one of her empty bottles that she'd never dream of picking up.

It's my job to keep the house, meaning, I'll have to go pick up the damage. Then, as I was holding the empty bag, she walked in with an angry scowl on her face. Yep, she was in a foul mood.

She asked me as she opened a bottle of whiskey, "where is my butter, you lazy bastard?" I really didn't want to tell her, but I had to or the consequences could be worse. I could see her eyes bulging a mile out of their sockets. Yep, she was high.

"I'm sorry Mama, err ma'am, but they didn't have the kind of butter you wanted at the store," I apologized profusely to my Mama not wanting to get a beating for not pleasing her. It was just butter, it shouldn't matter that much. Leave it to my parent to find some excuse to abuse me.

"What did you say you useless bitch?" she screeched without slurring. She was drunk, again; she must have drank a whole case of bear already. It wasn't the first time, nor would it be the last.

Here we go yet again, I thought to myself. I could tell she was going to explode, again, figures. No matter how hard I try to appease her, I never can. When I was young, I learned not to try because it won't happen. Whatever I do will never be enough; she'll always find something else to rant on about.

"I'm sorry Mama, but I brought everything else you asked for. I even swept outside and did the dishes," I said softly hoping to diminish her current mood. Making a mistake, I looked up at her.

Before I could react, I felt her palm make contact with my nose. I started to tear not wanting to give the monster any signs of my weakness.

A prickling that turned into a throbbing, sharp pain started in my nose. It felt like someone had cut off my nose. Maybe she had? Something tingly escaped my nostril; it was gushy and ran into my mouth. It tasted slightly rusty and warm.

My hand caressed my face, trying to sooth some of the pain. My hand was covered in something sticky. I knew what it was, my own blood. I felt the urge to vomit but knowing the current state of my Mama she wouldn't like that.

"Bullshit. What the hell!" she exclaimed. "How many times do I have to tell you? You are not worthy to look at my face, nor are you to ever call me Mama!"

"Yes, Ma'am," I nodded for good measure. I pushed my fingers to my nose feeling for the broken part. The blood was smeared all over my face and it started to run down into my ratty clothing. There was going to be a severe beating for messing up her carpet.

"Keep your face down, I ain't never want to see it again!" she commanded. I followed her orders returning my eyes and head to their previous positioning. I never got what her deal with me looking at her was. Is she really that self-conscious about her looks?

The blood started to dribble on the carpet, despite my best efforts to contain it. What I wouldn't give to be a vampire! I'd tear her apart and show her that she can't do whatever she wants to me.

"There is blood on my carpet," she said in a deathly, morbid tone, "my carpet." She took a drunken step. Grabbing one of her beer bottles, she pitched it at my head. Anticipating her move, I ducked before it could hit me.

I knew she was livid, but there were already so many alcohol stains on the carpet it hardly mattered to have one more. I peered over at the scene briefly; the glass had shattered from the impact of hitting the wall. I forced myself to turn my head and face down again.

Glancing once more, I saw that the bottom of the bottle was still intact resting on the floor space. Beer ran down the wall like a complex stream of water down a road. I was going to have to clean that up later.

"I feed you, cloth you, and give you a roof over your face. This is how you repay me! By treating me like bloody crap. You fucked up lazy ass! That's all you do every day, lay around on your ass and expect me to be your slave. I ain't your fuckin' slave, you little bastard!

"All I asked was to go to the store and get a few things. How the hell was it so hard for you to do that? Don't you know how to do a damn thing, you idiot?" she exploded and chucked another bottle at me.

I was completely shocked; staggering a bit, I managed to keep my feet firmly planted on the carpet. My toes curled into the carpet to keep myself from crying out in pain. The bottle had hit me square in the chest knocking the wind out of me.

I felt the bottle break upon my chest, it felt like an explosion. Some of the glass shards dug into my skin as if they were solidly implanted. It hurt to even breathe. Listening to my adrenaline pumped heart rate, I calmed myself down.

By now, I was standing in a pool of my own blood mixed with beer and surrounded by shattered glass. The sickly smell wavered up to my nose causing me to retch up a vile substance. If I thought she was enraged before, now she would be triple the original irritation.

My chest throbbed with sharp pains; both of us looked at each other, too shocked to say anything. I broke the silence when I let a whimper escape my sealed lips.

"Fuck you, bitch! How the hell is that going to get out of the carpet!" she roared. I flinched at her tone and lost my balance. Falling to the carpet, I tried to push my emaciated frame up. I was too weak to; starvation not only kills a person physically, but mentally. All I wanted to do was sleep.

I shut my eyes waiting for death to appear on his black horse and take me away from this pain filled hell. Too bad for me he wasn't going to materialize. He'd rather watch the events happen like it was comedy. The thought of my abuse as a comedy for satin made me smile.

For some reason, God only knows, the floor was so comfortable. I felt so heavy, my reprieve was pure bliss.

Suddenly, something smashed into my right cheek and eye. The impact shook my entire frame and sent my head into fire pits of pain. I could smell my own fear and hear my heart try to circulate blood into my shocked body. I knew this was the end through some uncanny ability, so I let out a blood curdling scream. This was more agony than I've ever felt before.

I felt glass prick my eyeball which was still open. I tried to shut my eye, but a shard of glass hindered my eye lid from closing. Instead, the glass tore through the lid. It was bleeding so much and hurt worse than hell. Unexpectedly, this is what scared me the most; I could no longer feel my right eye.

I was covered in slick, gooey slime made of blood, glass, and beer. I was so sick to my stomach, though there was little I could do. I couldn't get rid of my blasted pain.

I thought I was being burned at the stake. Though, at this moment through my hazy mind state, I'd rather be charred at the stake. A fiery torture would be short-lived pain that immediately would result in death. I liked it; death would be freedom from the abuse I live with.

Living with a drunk is hard, but living with a drunk who liked to inflict pain was impossible. Especially when all you can do is accept the scars as battle remains. I've have so many scars, I've lost count.

Through the mist closing in on me, I could still hear Mama continued to rant on shrieking, "It's your damn fault! Even as a baby, you were trying to kill me! Now you are killing me! Are you happy you?

"Are you? Because of you my boyfriend ran off! He left me her to take care of you! I resent you; I hope you go to hell where you belong!" She started to slur, blind with her rage.

I continued to moan trying my best to stifle my cries of anguish on the carpeted floor. She kept chucking bottles of liquor at me. Each hit me with great force, knocking my breath out. I couldn't breathe momentarily, when each bottle hit me. It exploded covering me with a spectacular show of fragmented glass shards and beer.

Each bottle left reaming shards that punctured my bony body. This was pure agony-filled torture. What parent treats a child like this?

I really wanted just to die. I could no longer see out of my eyes. I was so tired, I felt myself slipping through the cracks like sand out of a person's hand. The hourglass of my life was almost done. The furies seemed to have my thread thinning about to snap. I anticipated my death, welcoming the darkness.

"Don't you dare leave me, you useless bitch! I ain't done with you!" she thundered, her words slurred from continually drinking throughout her rant. "Open your eyes this instant or I'll do it for you and listen to me." I had no choice other than to obey snapping myself out of my reprieve. If she did it for me, she'd probably gorge out my eyes.

"I wanted an abortion, but my boyfriend told me not to. Then he ran off with another girl with a firmer ass and that was better in the sack. Do you not get it? YOU WERE A MISTAKE! A MISTAKE!" she hollered.

She always has some excuse for treating me like crap. Whether it is from years ago or from the present she blames me. I'm tired of being some adult's scapegoat, whether it is my Mother's or anyone else. I tried to open my mouth to say something but I was too weak to. Right as I was closing my mouth, she pitched another bottle at me.

It hit my mouth and jaw. More blood leaked out of a crack coming from my jaw. When it broke, some of the hard liquor entered my mouth. Suddenly, I was choking on the access of liquor that rushed down my throat. My whole mouth and throat were filled to capacity with alcohol. I tried to spit it out, but because of gravity, I was unable to. I hacked and coughed to expel the liquid.

The shattered glass cut into my throat, making it impossible to breathe. I glanced as best as I could at my mother as a good bye. I couldn't wait for death. Death would stop the hurting; it would be so peaceful. I couldn't wait to float on a cloud and feel the soft, puffiness of the cool condensation floating high in the sky.

Roaring, awaking me once again, she drunkenly stumbled to pick up the antique looking coffee table. Empty bottles were whipped contributing to the mess. She then threw the table at me in her drunken, pure crazed state. I was surprised she didn't pass out from the effort.

I was so shaken I could barely feel anything more when the coffee table came crashing down on me. It immobilized me covering me in a fresh coat of splinters. So this was how I was going to die by my mother's hand. I'd be trapped between chunks of wood, covered in a mixture of blood, vomit, alcohol, glass shards, and splinters.

The last thing I saw before I blacked out for a final time was my mother tilting some bottle of something I've never seen before. Suddenly, she gurgled and fell to the ground. The black closed in on me, like a battle I couldn't win. Instead of fighting the mist, I welcomed it.

Something that felt like an ice sculpture jerked me upright. It was definitely a divine icepack sent to cool me. I wanted to open my eyes but I couldn't. It was as if there was a thick veil of ink blindfolding me.

An angel, maybe the one taking me to the cloud where evil could never find me said, "Oh, darlin', what's happened to you? I'll make you all better, just close your eyes," Her voice was like wind chimes, sweet and melodic. I felt a cool breath upon my neck.

Immediately I realized something wasn't right. Again, it was my supernatural danger sensor sending serious messages of alert to my radar. That's when I started to scream.

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**Author's end note:**I hope you liked it and picked up on all my intended foreshadowing. Who do you think the angel is? Any constructive criticism that you have is greatly appreciated. Please leave a review; I want to know if I satisfied you. On that note, 5 reviews are necessary for chapter two update (That's not too much to ask, is it?) I'm still searching for that Beta (hint, hint) Thank you for reading!


	2. Important!

**Well hello fellow fanfic fanatics! How is everyone out there?**

**A big thanks to my sister for the review!**

**To all you alerters who are hoping this is an update, I want to say I am dreadfully sorry, it isn't.**

**I am extremely busy, as I assume everyone else is.**

**I understand that isn't a legitimate answer for my behavior; I beg your pardon for not updating.**

**Anyways, onto my announcement, due to practically no feedback, I am pondering abandoning this story.**

**I had a plot-line outlined, and was looking forward to continuing.**

**But as a neglected-of-reviews author, I don't see that as a possibility.**

**So I ask that if someone possibly wants me to continue, they review chapter one.**

**Thanks so much!**

_**~Glowing Bookworm**_


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